


warm & dry

by schittyfic (sixtysevenlmpala)



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Husbands, Jukebox Prompt, M/M, Post-Canon, Storms, just soft husbands being soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 12:13:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29207160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sixtysevenlmpala/pseuds/schittyfic
Summary: David used to struggle with storms. Now, not so much.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 23
Kudos: 136





	warm & dry

**Author's Note:**

  * For [samwhambam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/samwhambam/gifts).



> A little jukebox fill I plucked out of my Google docs and dusted off to post here!
> 
> For sam's prompt: "David and Patrick's first storm in the cottage."
> 
> As per, thank you to tinn for giving this a title.
> 
> <3

Patrick jolts, blinking blearily into the pitch-black and struggling to work out what yanked him so unceremoniously from sleep. A second or two later, a resounding _boom_ which rolls right over the roof answers his question. The weather in Schitt's Creek has always somewhat baffled Patrick. The town enjoys an inexplicably temperate climate 360 days a year, but when it storms, it _really_ storms.

The other side of the bed is empty and cold, so Patrick doesn't think twice before padding downstairs. At the familiar creak on the penultimate step, David glances up from the armchair he's curled up in, huddled in a thick robe and cradling a steaming mug. His face reminds Patrick of a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Hey there." Patrick's greeting is sleep-rough and punctuated by a yawn. He nods towards the window next to David. It's rattling with every loud gust outside. "Those old panes really don't keep the storm out, huh?"

David hums and opens his arms. Patrick's drawn to him like clockwork, folding himself into his lap on this armchair made for one, careful not to spill David's cocoa. "I never liked storms, as a general rule,” David muses. “For _one_ , a storm almost ruined our wedding, which was very rude." 

Patrick snuffles a laugh. "Nothing could have." 

There's a soft press of lips to the top of Patrick's hair, and he knows David is tucking a secret smile there. He can almost hear the rest of the words clamouring in David's brain, and waits patiently for him to corral them into a sentence. Then: "They... used to make me anxious."

"Not anymore?" 

"Mm-mm." 

Overcome with a wave of pride, Patrick winds his arms around David's neck, sitting sideways on his lap. A flash of lightning illuminates David's face as he turns his gaze to the window again, showing the same quietly content expression as when Patrick found him here. Following David's gaze, his hand finds its way to David's, idly twisting his wedding ring around his finger, which softens the line of David's mouth even more.

"Before, it always felt like it was right on top of me. Like, loud and overwhelming and… too much. It didn't feel safe."

"I know," Patrick murmurs soothingly, having witnessed a particularly panic-inducing night at the motel in their first year of dating. Alexis convincing David that the leak above his bed meant that the roof was going to fall in and crush him in the night didn't exactly help matters.

"But, now that we're here, it's like I can just… watch it happen. And know that even though it's fucking _unnecessarily_ loud and dramatic, it's out there, and I'm in here, and in here it's safe. I guess I never felt - um, secure enough, anywhere? To be able to see it like that."

Patrick watches the rain beating insistently on the glass, listens as the valiant walls of their little cottage are battered and bruised. The warmth of _home_ wraps around him with David's arms, a thick blanket shielding them both from the outside, and muffling the screams of the wind. "I know what you mean," he says. "I want to keep you feeling this safe forever, David."

"You will," David says simply, in that breathy voice which means he's still, after almost a year of marriage, taken aback by Patrick's sincerity. 

Patrick intends never to stop catching him off-guard.

"It's sort of beautiful, isn't it? When you're not busy hyperventilating, I mean. It's beautiful to look at."

Patrick glances from the window to his husband. David’s chin is resting on his hand and his tired eyes flash as he watches the sky tear open again and again. He's all soft lines and gentle awe, and Patrick feels that warmth squeeze him even tighter. "Yeah, it's very beautiful."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Please feel free to leave a kudos or comment if you liked, I love hearing from you guys. 
> 
> Stay safe, wear a mask, get your vaccines. <3


End file.
